


Somewhere to Hide

by ASeasonOfPoison



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Depression, Disability, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-06
Updated: 2016-05-17
Packaged: 2018-05-31 14:49:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6474598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ASeasonOfPoison/pseuds/ASeasonOfPoison
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brynden Tully rescues his great-niece and brings her to the Neck where he and the Crannogmen are currently hiding her little brothers in plain sight. Sansa isn't the girl she was before however, and struggles with everything she's faced since leaving the North. Hearing that your only friend has died doesn't exactly help matters along, but the support she finds in the Crannogmen lets her bloom again.</p>
<p>Headcannons and Original Characters belong to the best Meera Reed roleplayer on Tumblr - ladyoftheneck.<br/>Modern au spin on the books with some adjustments here and there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cigarettes

**Author's Note:**

> Updates will be slow, depending on how much time my newborn lets me write and etc. All other stories on hold until further notice, I will be doing my damnedest to finish this one.

She had felt eyes on her most of the past week, but dutifully ignored the feeling, and ignored the instinct to turn and find the source. _Father_ was most likely behind it, making sure she was playing the _game_ like a good girl. That or _she_ was trying to scope out if the _bastard girl_ was were the _red_ _wolf_ went off to. She shivered at the thought, having no hand in the death of that crazy witch’s son – though when she used a hand mirror to glance at the scars on her back, _she wished she had grabbed him by the neck and squeezed as hard as she could with both hands_. Flipping her dark brunette hair over her shoulder, she ducked into the alleyway that cut her walk back to the manor by a good two city blocks.

But a hand gripped her arm and she turned quickly, losing her balance slightly and getting one of her new heels jammed into one of yesterday’s leftover rain puddles.

“HEY!” She hollered, going to slap the man who’d grabbed her, and try to free herself. But she stopped short.

The man had all too familiar eyes, the same blue eyes that greeted her every time she glanced at the mirror, the same blue eyes her brothers had until they shut them forever, the same blue eyes her mother had before she’d had her neck sliced open…  
  
“Get in the car, _now._ ” An all too familiar voice hit her eardrums, and brought tears to her eyes. It was the voice of the man who never failed to call her mother on Sundays, and the man who never failed to send a package in time for a family birthday.

“ _Uncle Brynden?_ ” She somehow managed to gasp out, letting her school bag slide off her shoulder.

“ _Get in the car, Sansa_.” The greying man pressed, nodding back towards a black SUV. All thoughts she had previously about keeping this _Alayne game_ going, and being under Petyr’s _protection_ flew fast from her mind and she hurriedly rushed to the passenger seat, faster than Brynden could make it to the driver’s seat in fact.

“How did you…” Sansa found herself asking, once she felt comfortable again, anxiety slowly dissipating as they left the city limits of Eyrie, Vale. The more miles between her and the unwanted touches that lay behind her now, the better she felt.

“Petyr Baelish has no daughters, illegitimate or not. If he had, he’d have sold them to the devil years ago on his path to _greatness_ years ago.” Blackfish told her, spitting the sentence like venom. “You forget that while your grandfather was running the family business to drown out his grief, I practically raised your mother and her siblings, and the little boy he offered to take in as a favor.”

“… No daughters?” Sansa’s brow furrowed. “Does that mean…”

“I went with your Aunt Lysa and worked for her husband when she got married, lass. She was never quite the same after Petyr seemed to choose your mother over her, even after she married. When he came sniffing around not too long after… I ain’t blind, lass, I suppose that people see what they want to…” He sighed, fishing out cigarettes from the center console.

“… Robin?” Her eyes flew open and she felt her body shiver suddenly. Petyr had been planning on sneaking the boy something to _end his misery_ , a poison that would look like a natural death to a child as ill as Robin was. _A plot for Lysa to get the boy’s inheritance that was locked away in a trust, and share it with him, no doubt._

“Yes, Robin.” Sansa didn’t scrunch up her nose like she would have in the old days, as her great-uncle lit up his cigarette before rolling down his window. She took in a deep breath, taking in the scent of the smoke, letting it remind her of her only friend back in King’s Landing, and how the coat he’d given her had smelled strongly of the stuff – well that and his preferred drink, Dornish Red.

“So where are we going?” She nervously tapped on her knee before pulling on her cardigan sleeve.

“The one place in Westeros a Stark’s safe these days, the Neck.” He admitted to her, before taking a drag and turning his head to blow it away from her and out of the window. “Your brothers are waiting to see you…”

“… _B-Brothers?”_ Her voice broke and her throat started to ache. “ _What are you saying?”_ She jerked her head back towards him.

“The Boltons lied about Bran and Rickon. The boys ran – er well, _fled_ south with their nanny, that simple grandson of your old house keeper, and the Reed kids that had been visiting with them.” Uncle Brynden told her. “You remember how ol’ Howland Reed saved your father during the war? Seems like his kids took up on that. Got your brothers out of there as shit hit the fan” He snorted a little before taking another drag of his cigarette.

“Alive… Oh gods… They’re _alive_ …” Sansa buried her face in her hands as tears began to roll down her cheeks. Immense joy filled her heart, though a tingling of bitterness swept up _. Robb. Arya. Mom. Dad…._

“We’ll stop for the night right past Twins, gotta wash that god forsaken dye out of your hair. I’ve got the boys playing to be my bastards, I’m afraid you’ll have to keep pretending to be someone else, lass. The Crannogmen all know better, they all know the truth, but school records and the like are all gonna be falsified until shit gets fixed. They say that the Targaryen girl is going to win the election, don’t see how she won’t with what all the damn Lannisters tried to pull. The North is headed towards civil war it looks like, but the Neck is full of staunch Stark loyalists.” Brynden filled her in with what Petyr had kept from her, and more.

“Civil war…” She repeated numbly. “What in the _world_ are they thinking? The meteorologists are calling for a long winter…”

“Half the folks think that a Stark should return to the governor’s position, so they’re trying to get your cousin to leave his ranger’s position and take the position. The other half of the region think it’s time for new blood and are trying to put the Bolton’s up. Of course the fucking Bolton’s have been running attack ads since before your brother and mother died.” He spat out of the window as if the name left a rotten taste in his mouth, though Sansa couldn’t blame him for it.

“Just as Jon keeps safe…” Sansa murmured softly, her own knuckles turning white as she remembered what Joffrey had mockingly told her about her brother and mother’s deaths.


	2. Stability

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ladyoftheneck's headcanons do not apply to the twin's names, Meera's major, or the Greywater schooling system. These are headcanons of my own (the twins names are always hard for me to remember). 
> 
> Updates are sparse due to my little newborn taking up most of my time. (; He'll be three months old on Saturday and is an adorable little devil.

It took Sansa a full week to get use to everything. Bran and Rickon were so much older than her mind had played them out to be. She kept imagining the boys she had last seen in Winterfell, but alas, Bran was on the cusp of adolescence and Rickon… _gods_ Rickon had just been a tiny little kid when she’d last seen him. Sansa had been fourteen when she’d headed South with their father and sister, Bran had been ten, and Rickon had been seven.

And gods, how she had cried as she clung to them, not as hard as when the rumors of their murders had been sung to her by a _ruthless bastard_ , but hard enough to bring her to her knees. And then she had laughed, happiness bursting through her chest like she thought she’d never feel again. Oh their mom would have hated Rickon’s mohawk and how long Bran’s hair was… _but they were alive_.  By the gods, her brothers were _alive_.

Their cover story was known by all the adults in the town of Greywater, so Brynden had told her. Bran was Bryn Tully, Rickon was Ron Tully, and she would be _Sunny_. Their names were close enough to their own that it hadn’t been hard for them to learn them, but there weren’t too many close names to Sansa – Brynden had quipped up that Robb had called her Sanny until he was four, and so Sunny was chosen – and it fit with her bright hair… _Sansa didn’t know she’d miss that shade of auburn until she saw herself for the first time in a motel mirror after the dye had been stripped._

The best thing about the adults knowing the story though, was that they were well looked after but got to keep the semblance of a normal life. They were able to attend Greywater School, an all grades public school that sat in the middle of town between the public pool and the library. Brynden also had the boys in therapy with a young woman whose name rung like bells in Sansa’s ears. _Meera Reed_. Who was apparently getting a psychology degree from Northern University but came home fairly often.

Sansa had heard of the Reeds from their father, Howland Reed their father had saved his life during the war and after Bran’s accident he had become pen pals with Jojen Reed who’d fallen ill around the same time. Sansa wasn’t exactly sure what the illness was, but it had taken a good year for the boy to recover, and if she recalled correctly, he was a few months younger than her as well.

Uncle Brynden was a gentleman, it was something she had heard her mother say, although those same words had been used to describe _Uncle Petyr_. Even in her mind did the name come out like a slur. Instead of being a disgusting, handsy, pedophile like Petyr had been to her, Brynden took the smaller bedroom in the small cottage and gave her the somewhat larger room that was deemed ‘master’ enough to have an adjoining shower. The boys shared a room that was moderately bigger than Brynden’s, that housed a bunk bed and a desk but not too much else, and would now share a bigger than her own three piece bathroom with their uncle.

 _Sunny_ would be starting school the next week. Apparently the high school aged kids all fit into one room and so teachers would just teach different lessons to the different grades. They had social studies and math on Mondays and Wednesdays up until it was time for electives, and language arts and science on Tuesdays and Thursdays for the same amount of time. Friday, interestingly enough was dedicated to life skill classes and assistant teaching for the high schoolers.

Bran had helped her understand how their schooling system worked while Rickon had merely scoffed and turned up the television, not wanting to hear about school on his weekend time.

Talking to the boys over the past few days gave her a quick catch up of their lives.

Bran had admitted to her that he considered himself asexual, which surprised Sansa but she quickly worded her support, earning her a sweet smile. Apparently Jojen Reed was his best friend, although he’d made good friends with a bunch of the other Crannogmen too. Rian was a name that popped up quickly enough as he told her all about her friends. Apparently the boy and Bran had bonded over Bran’s cane – Rian had a prosthetic leg and had helped him through some of the harder months here. Sansa would have to thank the boy at some point during their stay.

Rickon on the other hand, was much more excited and less hesitant to tell her nearly every detail of his life. Apparently Rickon’s best friends were a set of twin girls, Viv and Gen Cray. He had prattled on and on about the mischievous blondes, even admitting to kissing the two of them by some brook on the other side of town. Sansa had to turn her head so he didn’t see her fight the urge to giggle, she’d definitely would have to keep an eye on the three of them down the road, of that she was sure.

Bran and Rickon both helped her settle in, in different ways of course. Much like her an Arya were as different as the sun and moon, the boys were too. Bran was more like her, she supposed – bookish and quiet compared to Arya and Rickon – the wolves in people’s bodies with their inability to sit still and stay focused. _Though every time she thought of Arya or heard her name, her chest constricted._

Knowing now that Bran and Rickon – _or Bryn and Ron as she ought to start calling them_ – were safe and happy, Sansa’s hopes that Arya was alive out there somewhere had only flourished. She had sat with some of the adults with Brynden, relaying her story to them and answering their questions, just the other night. The possibility that Arya lived was renewed from what she told them, and so they were going to revamp their search for the girl. Arya’s fencing instructor from Braavos hadn’t been known to them, and they hadn’t been certain how well she had known King’s Landing until she filled them in that Arya would often sneak out and explore. It was possible that she had found an escape route out of Red Manor in case of emergencies.

Mars Quagg had spoken to her the longest after the meeting, his nearly black eyes staring straight into hers as he had her repeat some of the tale that she had glossed over. He and Brynden then learned some of the details that Sansa had been hoping to hide. Like nearly being sexually assaulted and killed by strange men during the Riot that had broken out in King’s Landing, how Joffrey had tortured her, the talks of forcing her to marry one of the Lannisters when she came of age… and just how friendly _Uncle_ Petyr had really been. Mars Quagg had left the room with a near murderous look that reminded her a little of Sandor Clegane, despite just how short the Crannogmen was compared to him, while Brynden had softly asked if he could hug her, as she fought tears.

It was so different being treated like this by near strangers. It was almost hard for her to fall into the normalcy, into the stability and safety. She still locked her bedroom door at night, although now when she heard soft knocks during the night - that often belonged to a brother freshly woken from a nightmare - she’d answer it and let whichever poor boy it was curl up to her and spill their worries.

Although the boys were being counselled by Meera Reed, a different woman’s name was offered to her – Calypso Greengood. Sansa didn’t understand why she was being treated so differently from the boys, but reckon she’d learn during her first meeting with the woman. All she knew about the woman thus far was that she apparently ran some sort of odd apothecary like store that Bran and his friends adored, and her son, Kern _(what sort of name was that anyways?)_ was in the high school group as well.


End file.
